A Meditation on Family Game Night and Thanksgiving

The hubs and I just got back from the three-day-coma known as Thanksgiving. Despite my best efforts to read one of 5 books I brought along for the trip, it didn't really work out. No new books this week, but plenty of personal dribble, if you dare read on.

Before leaving for Thanksgiving, handfuls upon handfuls of co-workers and friends told me that this would be THE year. This is the first year I'm officially a part of the Jack family, and the first holiday not as a Lund. Exciting and terrifying stuff.

What was supposed to make this year different, was "setting a precedent for holiday attendance". Everyone told me to be aloof, and put in minimal effort, so as to have a rock-bottom to start from. Instead, we ended up going to three Thanksgiving dinners in 4 hours. And it was fabulous.

The night before Thanksgiving, my mom, dad and husband engaged in what is quickly becoming a holiday tradition. Game night. But like most traditions, it turns hostile. It started with an innocent game of "Taboo". For those of you not familiar, you and your partner take turns giving each other clues to a word. For example, "tree" could be described as "you find it in a forest". You guess until you're able to say the word based on your partner's clues.

This game becomes increasingly difficult when you become intoxicated. "Tree" suddenly turns into "that thing that's in the place where bears live". And, of course, we partook in party libations while playing the first few rounds. Everything was going well, until things got ugly. All I remember is yielding the last 10 seconds of my time while glaring when Andrew couldn't guess the "Empire State Building". I was disgusted. I have since apologized.

So we switched to Apples to Apples. Let's just say that what was supposed to be played as a team made my family turn like animals. My competitive spirit was satisfied when I won 16 hands and won the game. I might have made a few people cry, but I won a card game. Sorry (I'm not sorry) to the weaker beings that couldn't handle the heat that was my kitchen.

Throughout the holiday, I found myself reverting back to my child-like habits. I would eat food, and leave it out for my parents to clean up. I grabbed new glasses every time I wanted water, instead of reusing them. I left those glasses all around the house. In true fashion, I became lazy and lethargic. Books? What books? I was in denial. Readers, I let you down. My 13-year-old self is sorry.

Thursday morning, we enjoyed three delicious Thanksgiving meals. As much as we tried to plan the eating situation, we ended up stuffed and fat by 5 pm. But honestly, no regrets here. We've have 5 years of great Thanksgivings behind us, all uniquely wonderful. Just because we're married doesn't mean we have life figured out. I have a feeling I'll be stumbling through this for many more years to come.

Me Talk Pretty One Saturday

So, I have to apologize for the lack of post last night. For my most avid readers (I’m talking to you, Russia), I’m sure that really crunked up your night.

I’ve come to the realization that (for PR’s sake), I need to pretend I have better things to do on Friday nights. In the spirit of never taking responsibility for anything, I’ll blame my husband for last night’s disaster. He welcomed me home with a chocolate cupcake from a local bakery and his adorable smile. What was I supposed to do?

Saturdays it is!

David Sedaris is a really hilarious guy. I heard him for the first time on John Stewart. He was talking about a book and it piqued my interest. It’s true love when your husband lets you rummage around the grungiest, hippiest, dustiest-smelling bookstores; especially on your honeymoon. I think it was store #3 when I finally saw Me Talk Pretty One Day on a shelf.

That was my first mistake. I did a little research after reading, and prior to its publication, David read this on the radio. Ugh. It’s not that I didn’t like the book… I just felt like it might have been better heard than read.

That being said, there were moments of sincerity that I really got into. “The Youth in Asia” almost made me cry. I remember once having this exact thought:

“With us grown and out the of the house, my sisters and I reasonably expected our parents’ lives to stand still. Their assignment was to stagnate and live in the past. We were supposed to be the center of their lives, but instead, they had constructed a new family.”

Not but a month after moving out of the house, my parents adopted a toy poodle. Like me, she also has curly brown hair, asthma, hip problems and is similarly needy and disobedient. I was replaced before I even took the bed sheets off my bed! Actually, I was replaced before I stopped coming home every weekend to sleep in those bed sheets.

Here's a picture for adorable reference:

 

I found myself gravitating towards the more serious stories. If the there were more concrete and introspective stories about struggling with homophobia and dealing with the cultural issues of France, I’d be satisfied. Needless to say, that meant that the chapter “Big Boy” (the story about a trip to the bathroom) just sounded like a way too long poop joke.

I guess this means I’m taking a really unpopular stance: it’s not my favorite and I probably wouldn’t read it again. But, if any of you have an audio copy- lay it on me.

Matched Games

I'm having a hard time getting through Me Talk Pretty Some Day. I'd like to break my own rule and force myself to read it for tonight's blog post. But instead, enjoy these short and sweet reviews of my guiltiest pleasures.

I know, I know. They're what you'd call 'trash books'. I know, it's 'mainstream'. Guys, I have a pair of Ray-Bans. I know what I'm talking about.

Hunger Games
The first book of the series introduces a bad-ass female lead, Katniss, who sacrifices her livelihood for her sister's safety. She is pitted against 23 other kids who are willing to fight to the death to appease an aristocracy created by war. Intense stuff.

The first book is lively, entertaining and, at times, brilliant. Luckily, I was forewarned that the first book of the series would be spectacular, and the last two books would be less than. If I had gone forth with the first book and expected the second and third to be even remotely in the same level, I would have been disappointed. Obviously, I can really only talk about the first book without any spoilers... but it's a let down. Overly dramatic and predictable, I felt like a bitter ender.

Matched
This was recommended to me as a post-Hunger Games book. Dare I say that this series as a whole was better than Hunger Games? Yes, I do dare. Because I'm sorry (not sorry), but the last book was garbage.

Think: 1984 mixed with a little Fahrenheit 451 and a smidgen of Twilight. Matched, like Hunger Games, features a strong female lead. She is intelligent, talented and content. Everything she does is dictated by rule enforcers. There are few surprises, but everyone seems to have what they need. Her dystopian society really becomes dystopian as the rituals that hold it together become exposed as imperfect.

My only real gripe about the book (yes, besides it being cliche, a little simplified and cutesy) is that the main character never experiences hardships with the society in the beginning. Yes, people can't exercise as much as they want, but somehow she has a pass to workout however she wants. Some people aren't allowed outdoors much, but she gets to take a hiking course. What? I have a hard time liking her at first because it seems like she's just privileged and oblivious. Yes, eventually that wears away, but at first the rebellious streak seems forced. Next to Katniss, she's a bit of a poser.

But really, it's good enough to read! For those of you experiencing post-Games withdraws (with movie 2 coming out, I hope not, you junkies), it could be a good quick fix.

Match Game
For those of you who might be familiar with Match Game, popular in the 1970's, I'm sorry for the misleading title. For those of you who have no idea what I'm taking about, it's a game show where Gene Rayburn would tell hilarious stories and leave a blank in hilarious places. For example, 'John said to Mary, "I'm tired of your ____ing."' The contestants would fill in the blank and try and match the fabulous celebrities.

It's a far cry from a guilty pleasure. I love this show.

As an added bonus, here's my dream panel:

Richard Dawson (duh)
Charles Nelson Riley (only in his most dramatic years)
Brett Somers (she's the glue)
Scoey Mitchell (his voice is like Morgan Freeman's on helium)
Betty White (she outlived them all)
Fannie Flag (the boobies, duh)

The Books I Will Never Read

I have one rule when it comes to reading, and it's not too hard: don't force it. If you don't feel like reading, don't force it. If you're not interested in reading a particular type of book, don't force it. I think reading should be fun, or at least, natural.

When I read Anna Karenina, it took me over a month to finish. Sections were hard to get through and at times it was so dense I was missing major plot points. But, I thought it was a good book. Ridiculously long, confusing and at times frustrating, but ultimately good. There were fun parts and I occasionally think that it influences me in a profound way (like my opinion of black dresses).

When I made my list of books I will never read, I knew that I would be forcing those books. Not in a 'I'll feel better after I workout' kind of way, but in a 'Maybe sleeping on a bed of nails' way. I just can't see a world where me reading them ends in me being satisfied. 

I hate saying 'never', because nothing is predictable in the world of reading. So, if it would make you feel better, 1. thank you for your deep, emotional interest in my reading habits and 2. you can replace 'never' with, 'I don't think I will ever'.

The list is as follows:

• Lord of the Rings
• The English Patient
• Grapes of Wrath
• War and Peace
• Twilight
• Fifty Shades of Grey

Lord of the Rings
This is one of those books that everyone likes, so you might be asking, why not? Well, I tried. I really did. I was a young elementary schooler with little interest in fantasy fiction. I tried. You know when you go to a party and everyone's already drunk and sleepy? And you're trying to get into it, but you can tell you should go home? This is my 10 year party that I can't have fun at. Can we just all agree that the Hobbit is better?

The English Patient
Seinfeld. That's all. I'm not making some silly reference. My husband can attest to the fact that I hardly ever watch Seinfeld now and that I never did as a kid. But there was this onnnneee episode about The English Patient. I didn't get it- but it seemed like they really hated the book/movie. Ever since, I've given up on it.

Grapes of Wrath
This would have been another book I attempted as a child, way before my reading level was appropriate. Where are the grapes? Who is this truck driver? Why is he talking to strangers? Isn't that dangerous? The concept was far gone from the start. Instead of taking the high road and conquering my childhood failures, I'd rather just say this book is stupid and we're never, ever getting back together.

War and Peace
I get angry, because there are people out there that read this as if it's some kind of righteous task. Have you ever heard someone talk about it WITHOUT a monocle? Get over yourselves. Unless you actually liked it, in which case, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry).

Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey
Not only because it's supposedly hot garbage, it's also that I'm afraid I will actually like it. I'm steering clear of that guilty pleasure.

Look, we've all got our reasons. I'm not saying mine make sense. In fact, I believe they are utterly senseless. Move on, share on, but most importantly, read on.

The Catcher in the Rye and My Dialated Eye

I could take responsibility for not posting on Friday as usual, but I'd rather blame it on the alcohol. It's Halloween weekend, folks. Cheers.

I've heard mixed reviews about The Catcher in the Rye. Some were forced to read this in High School, and as such, hate everything about it. Some picked it up later in life and had very little to say. My friend Megan (yes, famous Megan from Fiterature.com) highly recommended it as a read-on-an-annual-basis book. Clearly, I needed to know what the fuss was about.

Holden Caulfield is an arrogant son-of-a-gun, who rationalizes just about everything. He's fickle. He's jaded. He has a strange way of interrupting the world and acts like a goofy moron. Throughout the book, beginning to end, he's an entirely unlikeable character.

"I don’t give a damn, except that I get bored sometimes when people tell me to act my age. Sometimes I act a lot older than I am - I really do - but people never notice it. People never notice anything"

"People always clap for the wrong things."

"That's something that annoys the hell out of me- I mean if somebody says the coffee's all ready and it isn't."

What I liked the least about The Catcher in the Rye, was how much I related to Holden. As a fresh college graduate and newlywed, there are times where I have no idea where my life is going. There are times where I am immature and hypocritical. There are more times than not that I feel like I don't understand the realities of the world. At this juncture, my husband and I are faced daily with decisions and opportunities that could change the entire course of our lives together.

Sometimes, it is hard to see yourself in the mirror. Sometimes, it's hard to hear your kid sister tell you that you hate everything and to shut-up about it. In a way, reading this book made me feel more grounded. It's important to act like an adult and take life seriously sometimes. I can tell now why some people feel it's good to read it regularly.

As I travel into the world of adulthood, I have new responsibilities. That can sometimes be exciting (like driving!) and it can sometimes be down-right poopy (figuring out your 401K!). One of those responsibilities includes being responsible for your health, and proactively managing it. I went to the eye doctor on Thursday. CHECK THAT EYE OUT!

This was the first time EVER that I took the initiative to go to the doctor by myself and I'll be damned if I won't post about it.